





















Santa would give them sweet things from the hake-shop until they could n’t eat any more 

(See Page 3) 


THE 

BOY WHO LIVED 
IN PUDDING LANE 

Being a True Account, if only you believe it, 
of the Life and Ways of Santa, Oldest 
Son of Mr. and Mrs. Claus 

By SARAH ADDINGTON 



Illustrated by 
GERTRUDE A. KAY 


THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS 

BOSTON 



Copyright, 1922, by 
Sarah Addington 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


OCT -9 ’22 

Ih.l 

©CI.A683503 


PREFACE 


This brief biography of a great hero, 
Santa Claus, is entered upon with the 
reverence due to the nature of the under- 
taking, and with the timidity that neces- 
sarily arises from the fact that it is a 
breaking of new ground. 

Just why historians have, in all epic 
accounts, ignored probably the greatest 
international figure that ever existed, is 
a mystery to the author, for whom the 
antecedents, early life, and young man- 
hood of Santa Claus have always been 
immensely fascinating. Nevertheless, the 
life of this great man has never been 
written; and even Mr. Wells, in a history 
of life from the amceba to the Peace 
Conference, has not so much as a foot- 
note on Santa Claus, though there are 
critics of youthful, and therefore unprej- 

V 


PREFACE 


udiced, minds, who will rate him far 
above Napoleon, Lincoln, and Garibaldi. 

To shed light, then, on the life of a 
popular idol, shamefully neglected by 
historians, is the purpose of this little 
study, which has been carefully and 
scientifically compiled from original 
sources. 

The author is fully aware that her 
book cannot add a single huzza to the 
world’s acclaim of Santa Claus (for he 
has gloriously risen above the conspiracy 
of historians to world-wide celebrity). 
She writes the account to please herself, 
and possibly a few other fellow admirers 
(preferably under twelve), who, like her, 
must know where Santa Claus lived as a 
little boy, what his mother was like, and 
how he got started in his enchanting 
business, before admitting this to be a 
perfect world. S. A. 


VI 



CONTENTS 

1. Introducing the Family 
IL Santa’s Brothers Come to Town 

III. Mother Goose Comes to Visit . 

IV. Santa Has a Secret all by Himself 

V. Santa Almost Tells the Wonderful 

Secret 

VI. Mrs. Claus Gets Ready for the 

Holy Day 

VII. The Wonderful Secret Comes Out . 

VIII. Honors for Santa 

IX. Bad News from Hamelin 

X. Several Things Happen 

XI. The Day of the Party 

XII. The Party 

XHI. Santa Has a Wonderful Adventure . 
XIV. Santa Has Another Marvelous Idea 
XV. A Great Problem in the Claus 

Family 

Old King Cole Gives His Answer . 

vii 


PAGE 

I 

5 

8 

14 

i8 

21 

28 

34 

39 

43 

48 

52 

57 

62 

66 

72 


XVI. 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


XVII. Santa Goes A-Courting ... 77 

XVIII. The Wedding, and the Wedding 

Journey 83 

XIX. The First Christmas .... 87 

XX. Santa Comes Home ... .92 



THE ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Santa would give them sweet things from the hake-shop until 

they could nH eat any more — {See Page j) . Frontispiece 

9 
32 

52 

60 


In just a minute, there she was on the ground beside him 

have toys for my little brothers f cried Santa 

They sat in a circle, while Mrs. Claus and Mr. Claus and 
Santa hurried to pass around food 

The children would not listen, but kept dancing along behind 
the piper 

Santa, driving the reindeer with one hand, and waving to 
Mrs. Claus with the other 


92 




THE BOY WHO LIVED IN 
PUDDING LANE 

I 

INTRODUCING THE FAMILY 
Once upon a time, in the kingdom of 
Old King Cole, there lived a father and 
a mother, and a fat little boy who was 
always dressed in a bright red suit. The 
father, whose name was Mr. Claus, was a 
baker, and he lived in Pudding Lane, 
between the butcher and the candle- 
stick-maker. 

Mr. Claus was really about the best 
baker in the world. He knew so welL ^ 
how to make little cake puppies, with 
red-currant eyes. And he knew so well 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

how to make funny gingerbread Brownies, 
with black-raisin eyes. He made great fat 
loaves of bread, warm and golden and 
crusty. And he made little plum tarts, 
that a boy could eat up in one gobble, 
and a girl could eat up in two. 

All the boys and girls who lived in 
Pudding Lane used to play around Mr. 
Claus’s shop, and Mr. Claus, being a gen- 
erous baker, almost always gave them cake- 
dough puppies, or gingerbread Brownies, 
when they came. And often, when he 
was busy, he would send out his little boy, 
Santa, to give the children their pastries. 

The children loved the little fat Santa 
even more than they did the cake-dough 
puppies and the gingerbread Brownies. 
He was such a jolly little chap, with a 
smile that crinkled up his round nose, 
blue eyes brimful of merriment, and a 


INTRODUCING THE FAMILY 

waddle that made all the children laugh, 
as he staggered under loaves and cookies. 

“You look like your grandmother’s 
gander when you walk,” they would cry. 

And sure enough, he did walk very 
much like his grandmother’s gander. 
But this was a high honor, indeed, for his 
grandmother was that great person. 
Mother Goose, and her gander was a 
bird much admired by the children of 
Pudding Lane. 

Almost every day the children would 
come, and Santa would give them sweet 
things from the bakeshop until they 
could n’t eat any more. Pretty soon, 
Mr. Claus began to complain. 

“How can I make money, Santa, if 
you give away everything and leave me 
nothing to sell? Yesterday, you gave 
away every cookie in the shop, and left 
3 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

only the cinnamon cow on the counter. 
And her right horn was broken off.” 

But little Santa knew that his father 
was not serious, and that everything was 
really going very well indeed. For they 
were warm and cosy in their rooms be- 
hind the shop, and they had plenty of 
hot soup and sausages to eat. Moreover, 
every night, when the butcher and the 
candlestick-maker came over to sit with 
the baker, they always said that business 
was good, and praised Old King Cole to 
the skies. 


4 


II 

SANTA’S BROTHERS COME TO TOWN 


Then, one day, Santa was told that he 
had two little brothers. 

“Two!” he cried. 

This was a surprise. And sure enough, 
there in a cradle near the stove, he saw 
them, a pair of squirming, purplish ob- 
jects, who made dreadful faces at him 
when he peeped at them, and who gave 
out strange noises. They were very odd 
creatures, indeed, and little Santa won- 
dered if they ’d ever grow up to be any- 
thing at all, with that start. 

But they did. They soon learned to 
smile, in a wide, toothless fashion that 
made Santa laugh uproariously. Then 

they astonished him by walking. Little 
S 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

Santa began to see that they were turn- 
ing into human beings, after all. And 
just as he was beginning to like the little 
fellows very much indeed, he was told, 
one morning, that two more little broth- 
ers had come to town. 

Two more! This was astounding. 
Santa could hardly believe his ears. And 
yet, when he went to look, there they 
were, two more little squirming, purplish 
things in the same old cradle. 

The butcher and the candlestick- 
maker came over to pay their respects. 
The butcher brought a juicy chop for the 
mother of the five little Claus boys, and 
the candlestick-maker brought a lovely 
pewter candleholder. But Mr. Claus 
appeared very doleful. 

“I don’t see how I can feed so many,” 
he confided to his friends. 

6 


SANTA’S BROTHERS COME TO TOWN 


“ Cheer up, they ’re all boys, and they ’ll 
be earning their own bread before you 
know it,” said the eandlestick-maker con- 
solingly. 

“Yes, cheer up,” said the butcher. 
“There’s Santa, now, almost six. I’ll 
give him a job as an errand-boy before 
many months.” 

Mr. Claus shook his head sadly. 

“He’d give away all your chops and 
chickens, as he gives away my cookies 
and tarts now.” 

Santa heard this and, for the first time 
since he was a baby, he wanted to cry. 
He felt so sorry for his father! His poor 
father, who worked night and day, and 
seemed to be so worried. Little Santa 
made up his mind then and there to stop 
giving pastries away so profusely. 


7 


Ill 

MOTHER GOOSE COMES TO VISIT 
That afternoon, Santa lay on the 
ground, watching the clouds roll by. 
There were great puffy clouds, that 
made him think of the wool on Bo- 
Peep’s flock. There were little stringy 
clouds, like the rags in Mrs. Claus’s rag- 
bag. There were slim silver clouds, 
that swam around like fishes in the blue 
ocean of the sky. And there was one 
beautiful peaked cloud, that looked like 
a snow-covered mountain. 

Santa, on his back, watched the clouds 
a long time, thinking gravely of his hard- 
working father. Finally he grew sleepy, 
and he had almost dozed off, when sud- 
denly, over the top of the beautiful 
8 





Page Q 



MOTHER GOOSE COMES TO VISIT 

peaked cloud, he saw a black speck 
appear. 

“It must be a bird,” said Santa to 
himself. 

The speck came nearer and grew 
larger and blacker; and then, all at 
once, Santa jumped to his feet, and 
began waving frantically. For the speck 
was a great deal more than a bird. It 
was Santa’s grandmother, old Mother 
Goose, coming to visit them on her 
highflying gander. 

In just a minute, there she was on the 
ground beside him, twinkling eyes, sharp 
nose, pointed hat, and all. At the sight 
of her, all the children came running; 
and as for Santa, well, he just jumped 
up and down with excitement and joy. 

Mother Goose smiled at them all, gave 
Santa a good grandmotherly hug, took 
9 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

off her glasses and wiped them, shook 
some strawberry lollypops out of her 
pockets, and then rushed into the house. 
For, of course. Mother Goose was more 
interested in her daughter, Mrs. Claus, 
and her new grandsons, than she was in 
the village children. 

Everything seemed more cheerful after 
Mother Goose got there. 

“It’s nice to have a lot of children,” 
she told the melancholy Mr. Claus. 
“Look at the Old Woman Who Lives in 
a Shoe. She has so many children she 
does n’t know what to do. But she 
wouldn’t know what to do if she didn’t 
have them, because she told me so. 
And it ’s a good thing for little Santa 
that he has brothers,” she went on, “or 
he would have been spoiled. There ’s 
Mistress Mary, an only child, and such a 

lO 


MOTHER GOOSE COMES TO VISIT 

contrary girl I never saw. If she had 
little brothers and sisters to think about, 
she’d soon get over that contrariness.” 

“But she has a very pretty garden,” 
put in Santa. 

For every day he stopped to look at 
Mistress Mary’s garden, which was right 
next to the pasture where the Claus’s 
cow fed. 

“Fiddlesticks!” said Mother Goose. 
“Silver bells and cockle-shells I Who 
wants to raise such useless nothings? 
That girl ought to be growing cabbages 
and corn.” 

Mother Goose was a very practical old 
lady, you see. But although little Santa 
liked cabbage-soup and corn-bread as well 
as anybody, he secretly was glad that 
Mistress Mary had a beautiful, and not a 
useful, garden. For, when the wind blew. 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

he could almost hear the silver bells ring 
in the garden. And when the sun shone, 
the cockle-shells glistened as brightly as 
they did on the seashore where they came 
from. 

At supper, around the hearthstone, the 
family gossiped comfortably of this and 
that. 

“Simple Simon says he met you going 
to the fair,” said Mother Goose to Mr. 
Claus, helping herself to another jelly 
bun. 

“Yes, I took some pies to the fair,” re- 
plied Mr. Claus, “and Simon asked me to 
let him taste my ware. But the fellow 
did n’t have a penny, so I could n’t give 
him any, of course.” 

Mr. Claus took another bowlful of 
soup from the pot on the hearth. 

“Well, Simon is a real simpleton,” 


12 


MOTHER GOOSE COMES TO VISIT 


said Mother Goose, “but he’s a harmless 
fellow. My goodness, Santa child, no 
wonder you ’re a roly-poly puddin’ and 
pie! That’s the third helping of por- 
ridge you ’ve had. He needs a new suit, 
Nellie.” (Nellie was Mrs. Claus’s first 
name.) 

“Yes, he does,” replied Mrs. Claus. 
“ But I ’ve been so busy making clothes 
for the other children, I have n’t had 
time for Santa.” 

“Well, the little fellows look real 
well in their apple-green trousers and 
canary-colored coats; but I ’m not sure, 
Nellie, that those suits are as practical as 
Santa’s red ones.” 

There she was again, just as sensible a 
grandmother as anybody ever had. 


13 


IV 

SANTA HAS A SECRET ALL BY HIMSELF 

Little Santa really did stop giving 
away all his father’s pastries. For now 
that he had four little brothers, he found 
that he was very busy helping his mother 
to care for them. And since they were 
always wanting something, he did n’t miss 
the fun of giving, after all. 

If you had four little brothers, you 
would know just how much there was 
for Santa to do. He used to feed the 
first batch of twins (Mr. Claus always 
spoke of them as “batches,” just as if 
they were cookies). He helped them 
into their apple-green trousers, and 
played bear with them in the backyard. 
He held the second batch, one on each 
knee, while they drank milk from pew- 
14 


SANTA HAS A SECRET BY HIMSELF 


ter mugs, and crunched crackers between 
their new little teeth. 

But although the little Claus babies 
were warm and well fed and rosy, they 
didn ’t have any toys to play with, like 
a good many other children in Pudding 
Lane. And little Santa, who was now 
seven years old, going on eight, used to 
worry a great deal about that. For he 
could see how much fun the other chil- 
dren had with their hobbyhorses and 
kites and blocks. 

Then it was that Santahad a wonderful 
idea. It was really the most wonderful 
idea a little boy ever had. It was a 
great secret, too, and he did n’t tell any- 
body, not even his mother. But his 
mother knew that he had a secret, for 
he would go to the woodshed and stay 
there sometimes all afternoon, and she 
IS 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

could hear the sound of hammering and 
sawing. And one day, when Santa came 
in to supper after a long afternoon in 
the woodshed, his father sniffed the air 
and said: — 

“I smell red paint.” 

Little Santa gave a jump and asked: — 
“How can you tell it’s red by smell- 
ing it?” 

“Oh,” said Mr. Claus, “can’t I tell 
white icing from chocolate, when I smell 
it? Then why can’t I tell red paint from 
yellow with the same nose?” 

Santa pondered this deeply. He really 
did n’t see where his father was wrong, 
and yet he could n’t tell the color of 
paint from its smell, no matter how hard 
he sniffed. He kept on wondering about 
it until he went to bed, when he found 
that red paint came off on his washcloth 

i6 


SANTA HAS A SECRET BY HIMSELF 

from his left cheek. Then he knew 
that his father had been teasing him, 
and he chuckled aloud at the joke. 

But still little Santa did not tell where 
the red paint came from, and nobody 
asked any questions. He kept on going 
out to the woodshed every day, and all 
the time his secret kept getting more 
wonderful. Santa even dreamed about 
it at night; and in the morning, when 
he jumped out of bed, it was the first 
thing he thought of. 


17 


V 


SANTA ALMOST TELLS THE WONDERFUL 
SECRET 

It was getting pretty cold these days. 
Mother Claus had dived deep into the wal- 
nut chest and brought out all the family 
woolens. Father Claus had stuffed 
the wood-box full of hickory logs. 
Almost every night Jack Frost came 
while the family were all asleep, and, 
with a silver needle, he embroidered the 
cottage windows, left shining roses pat- 
terned there, lacy spiderwebs, and a 
thousand stars or two. Santa used to 
try to catch Jack Frost at his work, but 
he never, never could. 

It was cold in the woodshed, too; but 
Santa kept going there; and every night, 

i8 


THE WONDERFUL SECRET 

when he came back for supper, his cheeks 
were redder than ever, and his fat little 
hands looked like purple plums. 

“It’ll be the Holy Day next week,” 
observed his mother one night at table. 
“We must get a new candlestick from 
the candlestick-maker, and a fine goose 
from the butcher, and we will all sing 
carols the night before, in honor of the 
Holy Child’s birthday.” 

When Mrs. Claus mentioned the Holy 
Child’s birthday, little Santa almost 
wriggled out of his chair, and he honestly 
thought for a moment that his wonder- 
ful secret was going to burst right out 
from his lips. So he buttoned them 
together more tightly than ever, until 
his jaws fairly ached with the effort. 

Mrs. Claus noticed his ill-concealed 
excitement. 


19 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

“My goodness, Santa, what are you 
wriggling all over your chair about? 
Sit up straight there, like a good boy. 
It ’s only a baby that may squirm like 
that.” 


20 


VI 


MRS. CLAUS GETS READY FOR THE 
HOLY DAY 

Mrs. Claus soon began to prepare for 
the Holy Day. First, she went to the 
candlestick-maker next door and asked 
to see his new stock. 

The candlestick-maker was a little, 
thin, bent-over man, with a face like a 
fox. Many people thought him objec- 
tionable, and it is true that he was for- 
ever making his nephew J ack jump over 
a candlestick, which was rather an un- 
pleasant habit. Jack was nimble, and 
Jack was quick, and did not really seem 
to mind very much. 

Still, most of the villagers thought the 
candlestick-maker very disagreeable to 
21 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 
keep J ack jumping that way all the time. 
However, the Clauses liked the candle- 
stick-maker very much, and he liked 
them. 

When Mrs. Claus went into the shop, 
the candlestick-maker jumped up from 
his work-bench, smoothed out his dirty 
leather apron, and smiled his best smile. 
He didn’t have a tooth in his head, poor 
man, so his smile was rather queer until 
you got used to it. 

Mrs. Claus looked over the new 
stock of candlesticks, pewter and brass 
and copper. And they were all so beau- 
tiful, the poor lady could not, for the 
life of her, decide which one she wanted. 
For the pewter one had a handle as del- 
icately turned as a bracelet. The brass 
one had been polished until it glittered 
like a sunbeam in the candlestick-mak- 


22 


MRS. CLAUS GETS READY 


er’s old, dark shop. And the copper one 
was tall and red like a tiger lily. 

Well, Mrs. Claus just stood and looked 
at them all, until her eyes ached. Fi- 
nally, she gave it up. 

“Tell me, neighbor, which one I shall 
choose,” she besought the candlestick- 
maker. 

The old man smiled, and laid the 
copper holder in her hand. 

Then Mrs. Claus declared that it was 
the very one she had wanted all the 
time. 

“Then why didn’t you pick it out 
yourself?” asked the curious Santa. 

The old candlestick-maker cackled 
and showed his toothless gums. 

“The little fellow don’t know women, 
do he?” he asked Mrs. Claus. 

Mrs. Claus laughed, too; and just then. 


23 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

Jack, the candlestick-maker’s nephew, 
came in. 

The candlestick-maker turned a sharp 
face to his nephew. 

“Jack, be nimble. Jack, be quick — ” 
he began. But Mrs. Claus did not care 
to stay for the exhibition, and hastily 
left the shop. 

They next went to the butcher’s, on 
the other side of their own house. 

“Ho, ho, ho!” said the butcher, when 
he saw them coming, “here’s company. 
Sorry I can’t offer you a pipe, Mrs. 
Claus, but something tells me you 
would n’t accept it if I did, ho, ho, ho!” 

The butcher was, you see, a very genial 
person. His jokes were not always good 
jokes, to be sure. But as Mrs. Claus 
said, a jokester can’t always turn out a 
funny joke, any more than a baker can. 


24 


MRS. CLAUS GETS READY 

every single time, turn out a perfect pie. 
She said this one time to Mr. Claus, 
when he grumbled that the butcher’s 
jests were sometimes tiresome. 

The butcher was a big, broad-chested 
fellow, with great arms, fine yellow 
moustaches, and an enormous white 
apron that covered him from chin to 
toe. And Mrs. Claus always said that 
he had the best meat in the kingdom. 
How Mrs. Claus knew this was some- 
thing of a mystery, for she had never 
been outside the town, and there was no 
other butcher in Pudding Lane. Still, 
Mrs. Claus always said this, and nobody 
questioned her word. And by-and-by, 
everybody in Pudding Lane began to 
say that this butcher had the best meat 
in the kingdom, though not one of them 
had ever tasted any other meat. 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 


To-day Mrs. Claus bought a hand- 
ful of tripe, and then she asked the 
butcher: “What about your Holy-Day 
fowl?” 

“Finest in the kingdom, Mrs. Claus,” 
replied the butcher, rubbing his hands 
together. 

At last Santa understood. His mother 
had learned that this meat was the best 
in the kingdom because the butcher said 
so himself ! And, of course, he knew. 

So Mrs. Claus ordered a gray goose 
for the Holy Day, and they departed. 

“Gray geese are good eating, Santa,” 
she told the little boy on the way home, 
“and gray-goose feathers don’t get so 
dirty in bed pillows.” 

When they got home, Mrs. Claus 
declared that they must all get down to 

business immediately and learn their 
26 


MRS. CLAUS GETS READY 

Holy-Day carols. So she got out a 
kitchen spoon to beat time with, and 
they all got down to business and sang 
carols. Father Claus rumbled and 
roared. Mother Claus sang high and 
loud, and got very red in the face. 
Santa shouted his best, now in the so- 
prano part, now in the alto, and often 
halfway between. The first batch of 
twins yelled fervently on one note. 
And the babies squealed with delight at 
the racket. When they had all sung 
until they were hoarse and breathless. 
Mother Claus laid down the spoon. 

“Now we’re all ready for the Holy 
Child’s birthday,” she said. 

And once more, little Santa nearly 
burst with his wonderful secret, which 
he had kept so many days. 


27 


VII 

THE WONDERFUL SECRET COMES OUT 

The day before the Holy Child’s 
birthday, Mrs. Claus couldn’t find Santa, 
high or low. He was n’t in the butch- 
er’s or the candlestick-maker’s. He 
was n’t in the woodshed. He was n’t 
anywhere. Mrs. Claus got very impatient. 

“Here I am, cooking a goose, making 
new candles, scrubbing the hearth, and 
there’s no Santa to help me do a 
thing,” she said to Mr. Claus at dinner. 
“Where in the kingdom do you suppose 
the child is?” 

But Mr. Claus didn’t know. So Mrs. 
Claus had to go on with her work with- 
out any help from anybody. She cer- 
tainly was very much annoyed, and was 
preparing to give Santa a good scolding 
28 


THE SECRET COMES OUT 

when he got back. He had never done 
such a naughty thing before. In fact, 
he had never done anything really 
naughty before, and Mrs. Claus didn’t 
know what to make of him. 

But it grew dark, and Santa did n’t 
come back; and then Mrs. Claus got 
fearfully worried. She put on a hood 
and went hurrying down Pudding Lane 
to the Town Crier’s. 

« Get out your bell, Mr. Crier,” she said. 

“What, is pussy in the well again?” 
asked the Crier. 

“Worse than that,” replied Mrs. 
Claus. “My oldest boy, Santa, is lost.” 

“ Have you looked upstairs and down- 
stairs and in my lady’s chamber ?” asked 
the Town Crier. 

“We have no upstairs and we have no 
lady’s chamber,” answered Mrs. Claus; 

29 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

“ but we have searched every nook of the 
downstairs, and he has n’t been home 
for hours upon hours, and now it ’s as 
black as a witch outdoors.” 

So the Town Crier left his supper and 
took out his great bronze bell. He went up 
and down Pudding Lane. He went east 
to the crossroads and west to the bridge. 
He went up and down Pinafore Pike and 
down and up Raspberry Road. And every- 
where he sang out: “Little Santa Claus 
is lost! All folks turn out and hunt!” 

And as the Crier went his round, Mr. and 
Mrs. Claus sat beside the stove, each one 
hugging a batch of twins, mourning their 
lost boy, the jolly, fat, good little Santa. 

“The fire in the hearth is out,” said 
Mrs. Claus to her husband. 

“The fire in my heart is out, too,” 
said Mr. Claus. 


30 


THE SECRET COMES OUT 


“We haven’t lighted the Holy Child’s 
candle,” replied Mrs. Claus. “Let us 
put it in the window so our own child 
may see it and come home.” 

So they waited, weeping and sad, the 
little brothers asleep in their arms, while 
the men of the neighborhood gathered 
lanterns and ropes and bells, and started 
out to find the lost child. 

It was quiet and cold in the little 
room back of the shop. No sound came 
out to the waiting mother and father. 
The Holy Child’s candle winked and 
blinked in the window. What a sad 
Holy Day for the Claus family! 

Then suddenly, with a bump and a 
clatter, down the chimney came a red- 
clad figure, with a bag on his arm and 
a merry chuckle. 

“Why, Santa Claus!” exclaimed his 
31 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 


mother, jumping up to hug her little 

Father Claus jumped up, too, and 
the four little brothers woke up and 
immediately began to laugh at the sight 
of their roly-poly Santa, who had a 
smudge on his cheek and was dancing 
and laughing as if he would split his fat 
little sides. 

“Santa Claus,” cried Mrs. Claus again, 
“wherever have you been?” 

And then came the wonderful secret. 

“I have toys for my little brothers,” 
cried Santa. “I kept them in a box on 
the roof, so, of course, I had to come 
down the chimney. Good thing I ’m 
fat, mother, or it would have scraped 
my bones.” 

He laughed again and began to open 
his bag. And his brothers’ eyes got as big 

32 



have toys for my little brothers,^ cried Santa 


Page 32 



THE SECRET COMES OUT 

as moons at the things he tumbled out! 

“ Here’s a rocking-horse for Matthew,” 
he shouted, “and a kite for little Mark. 
Here’s a set of blocks for Luke, and a 
top that spins for John!” 

Such hilarity as there was then! 
Matthew climbed on the wooden horse 
and rocked until he was dizzy and fell 
over backwards on his head. It was a 
peculiar-looking horse, made of boards 
and barrel-staves, with its green yarn 
tail stuck ’way on the right side by 
mistake. But it did rock, oh my, yes! 
Little Santa had spent days balancing it 
on its barrel-stave rockers. 

Mark shouted with glee over his blue 
paper kite. Luke built a high tower of 
blocks that tumbled right over on John’s 
whirling top. And everybody danced and 
screamed at everything that happened. 

33 


VIII 

HONORS FOR SANTA 

Finally, when they were all out of 
breath, Mother Claus brought in cinna- 
mon eggnog, and Father Claus built up 
the fire. 

“Santa, however did you think of such 
a beautiful surprise ? ’’asked Mother Claus. 

Little Santa almost fell out of his 
chair with delight. But he could n’t 
give his mother any satisfactory answer. 

“I just did,” was all that he could say. 

“And how did you learn to make 
those toys out of kindling wood and 
left-over bits?” asked his father. 

“I don’t know,” he answered, and 
blushed with pride and pleasure at his 
father’s question. 


34 


HONORS FOR SANTA 

“Won’t the neighbors all be surprised 
when they hear of this? ’’asked Mrs. Claus. 

And then she remembered something 
and gave a little cry. 

“My goodness, Mr. Claus,” she said 
to her husband, “do you suppose the 
men are still out looking for Santa? We 
were so excited about the toys we forgot 
to tell them he was found again.” 

“Great snakes!” exclaimed Mr. Claus. 
(“Great snakes” was his favorite expres- 
sion, but if the poor man had ever seen 
a great snake, I ’m sure he would have 
run many miles.) 

He jumped up to run and tell the 
Crier, but just then all the men who 
had been hunting for little Santa, came 
up Pudding Lane to the door. 

“We can’t find him,” said the leader 
of the search-party. Then he looked 
35 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 


in through the door and saw all the 
Clauses, merry as could be, around the 
blazing fire, with Santa in their midst. 

“What’s this?” he asked frowning. 
“Did you play a hoax on us, baker?” 

All the men began to growl, and for 
a moment it sounded like a storm 
coming up a mile away. 

Mr. Claus quickly began to explain. 

“It was a Holy-Day surprise,” he 
said. “Little Santa made all these toys 
for his brothers, and came down the 
chimney with them. We thought he 
was lost, but he was only on the roof.” 

“I would have come sooner, only I 
went to sleep,” confessed Santa. 

“Come in, friends,” urged Mr. Claus, 
“and look at the things our Santa made. 
He ’ll make a first-rate apprentice, 
Mr. Carpenter.” 


36 


HONORS FOR SANTA 

So all the men came in, and looked 
at the things Santa had made. 

“First-class,” said the carpenter, rock- 
ing the horse. He did n’t seem to notice 
that the green yarn tail was not in the 
centre. 

“This top really spins,” said the 
candlestick-maker, on his knees. 

“I wish Jack had some blocks like 
this,” said Mr. Horner. It was a well- 
known fact that every Holy Day Jack 
sat in the corner, pulling plums out of 
his pie, and telling everybody what a 
smart boy he was. Which was very 
tiresome, of course. 

So it was that Santa found himself 
much admired and complimented. Fi- 
nally, however, after all the men had 
drunk eggnog, wiped off their moustaches 
carefully, and departed for home, Santa 
37 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

went to bed. And he knew that his 
wonderful secret had been a huge suc- 
cess, and he resolved to make toys 
for his little brothers every single Holy 
Day. 


38 


IX 

BAD NEWS FROM HAMELIN 


It was shortly after Holy Day that 
the Clauses brought out the old cradle 
for a new baby, and this time it was 
a girl! How pleased everybody was! 
Nobody felt doleful this time, for Mr. 
Claus had learned that the soup always 
did go round, after all. And Mother 
Claus had wished so hard for a daughter. 

The baby girl grew fast as the spring 
came along; and by summer, when the 
winds were warm and the bushes on 
Raspberry Road showed little green 
knobs, she began to be fretful. 

“Her teeth ache,” said the piper’s 
wife, as she held her one day. 

39 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

“ Her teeth ? ” exclaimed Santa. “ How 
could they ache? She hasn’t any!” 

Santa laughed aloud at the blunder 
the piper’s wife had made. 

“Of course, she has teeth,” rejoined 
the piper’s wife promptly, “only you 
can’t see ’em, Santa. Ha, ha, the joke’s 
on you.” 

Little Santa, feeling rather foolish, 
said no more. Mrs. Claus came out of 
the house with her sewing. And as 
Santa sat drowsily in the sun, watching 
the bees and dragon-flies and humming- 
birds in their flight from flower to 
flower, the two women chatted. 

“And where’s the baker to-day?” 
asked the piper’s wife. “I noticed the 
shop was closed.” 

“He’s gone to the royal kitchen to 
teach the Queen of Hearts how to make 
40 


BAD NEWS FROM HAMELIN 

her favorite tarts,” answered Mrs. Claus 
proudly. 

She was so glad the piper’s wife had 
asked that question. For the Clauses 
had thought it a great honor for the 
Queen of Hearts to send for the baker, 
and Mrs. Claus did want everybody to 
know of the occasion. 

The piper’s wife had a piece of news 
from Hamelin. 

“They say there’s a plague of rats 
over there,” she said. 

“My goodness!” said Mrs. Claus. 
“Are they very bad?” 

“Very bad,” replied the piper’s wife. 
“They get in the porridge, and climb 
in the beds, and swarm the streets.” 

“Dear me! ’’said Mrs. Claus. “That 
is terrible.” 

“Yes,” went on the piper’s wife, “but 
41 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

there’s a piper, — my husband knows 
him, — who has agreed to pipe them all 
away for a certain sum of money.” 

•‘Well, that’s a blessing,” said Mrs. 
Claus. “Think of having rats in your 
babies’ beds.” 

She shivered, and though the day was 
very warm, little Santa shivered, too, at 
the very thought of rats in his bed. 


42 


X 

SEVERAL THINGS HAPPEN 

Mrs. Claus was going to have a party. 
She wrote her invitations with great 
pains: “Mrs. Claus humbly craves the 

honor of your presence — ” And in the 
lower left-hand corner, she added: “Q. 
E. D.” 

“What does it mean?” asked the 
baker. 

“I don’t know, rightly,” replied his 
wife; “but they always put it at the bot- 
tom of invitations.” 

“Well, it ought to have a ‘U’ in it,” 
criticized the baker. “ ‘ QJ is always 
followed by ‘ U.’ ” 

“It does hardly seem right,” admitted 
Mrs. Claus; but she sent the invitations 
that way just the same. 

43 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 


All the grown-ups on Pudding Lane 
were invited, and everyone accepted. 
Mrs. Claus then began to plan her re- 
freshments. It was a hard problem, for 
there were Mr. and Mrs. Spratt, who 
were so queer about meat, and there 
was Miss MulFet, who was on a diet of 
curds and whey. Finally, Mrs. Claus 
decided to have everything she could 
think of, and then everybody would be 
pleased. 

The day was set for Wednesday, the 
hour was ten minutes after three, and 
now, on Tuesday, there was a great 
cleaning and scrubbing and cooking go- 
ing on in the little cottage. Santa was 
a great help. He went up the hill for 
water, and never stumbled once, though 
it was the same hill where Jack and Jill 
had had their frightful accident. He 
44 


SEVERAL THINGS HAPPEN 

scoured the copper candlestick, which 
was tall and red, like a tiger lily. He 
took care of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and 
John, and his little sister. 

In the midst of everything, the butcher 
came running back into the house, fol- 
lowed by the baker and the candlestick- 
maker. 

“Whatever is the matter?” asked Mrs. 
Claus. “I don’t fancy having three 
men at their ease in my kitchen whilst 
I work at a thousand and one things.” 

“Fetch all the children,” commanded 
the baker. “Fetch Santa and the first 
batch of twins and the second batch of 
twins; fetch the little one, and take them 
all to your breast and hold them there!” 

Mrs. Claus stared at her husband. 

“ Has the good man lost his wits, neigh- 
bor?” she asked the candlestick-maker. 


45 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

“ Do as he says, Mrs. Claus,” replied 
the candlestick-maker; “and be nimble, 
be quick!” 

Mrs. Claus turned to the butcher. 

“Are they stark mad, butcher?” she 
asked. “Tell me, quick, has the sum- 
mer heat curdled their brains and ad- 
dled their minds completely?” 

The butcher began to speak. 

“First collect your children — ” 

But Mrs. Claus, poor woman, began 
to cry, and then they hastened to ex- 
plain. 

“ It’s that piper at Hamelin,” said the 
baker. “He piped away the rats; but 
the mayor wouldn’t pay, so he’s piped 
away the children into a big, deep pit. 
And now the Town Crier says he’s on 
his way here — ” 

Mrs. Claus screamed and ran into the 
46 


SEVERAL THINGS HAPPEN 

yard. In two minutes she had all her 
children herded into the kitchen. And 
in another two minutes, she had them 
all in bed, with cotton stuffed in their 
ears. 

“There,” she said, “it’s precious little 
piping you ’ll hear now.” 

Then she went about her work. 

But the children were not so well 
pleased, and all but Santa, who knew 
the danger that threatened them, set up 
a lusty howl. They cried so hard, that 
finally Mrs. Claus got some cotton and 
put it in her own ears. 

“There,” said she, “let them cry. I 
can do my work in peace.” 


47 


XI 

THE DAY OF THE PARTY 


The next morning, the Town Crier 
gave out the news that the Pied Piper 
of Hamelin had headed the other way. 
So all the Claus children jumped out of 
bed, pulled the cotton out of their ears, 
and rejoiced loudly at their freedom. 
But this was the Day of the Party, and 
bustling preparations were soon on foot 
again. 

“Why is the party called for ten min- 
utes after three?” asked Mr. Claus at 
dinner-time. They were all stuffing 
their food down hurriedly, in order to 
get the table cleared before the com- 
pany should come. 

“Well, a body has to set some time 
48 


THE DAY OF THE PARTY 

or other,” answered Mrs. Claus, “and 
ten minutes after three sounded genteel 
to me.” 

Mr. Claus did not understand this, 
and neither did Santa, but Mrs. Claus 
was well content with the hour. 

Oh, such a scramble as it was to get 
all the Clauses dressed for the party! 
First Mr. Claus had to have a clean 
baker’s apron and cap, starched so stiff 
that he scarcely dared move. Then 
Santa had to scrub his ears, brush his 
red suit, and shine his shoes until they 
hurt his eyes with their glare. 

After that, the first batch of twins 
were washed and put into their apple- 
green trousers and canary-colored coats; 
the next batch were washed and put 
into their funny little bloomers and 
shirts of orange and blue. 

49 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

Good gracious, it was nearly ten min- 
utes after three! 

The baby was hurried into her white 
dress, and at last Mrs. Claus appeared, 
with her hair curled, her feet in new 
slippers, and, instead of her old brown 
apron, she wore a handsome dress of 
green muslin. 

She smiled at Santa, but her smile did 
not last longer than a second, for she 
confessed that her new slippers did pinch 
horribly. 

“Whatever made you get ’em so 
small?” asked Mr. Claus. He was fussy 
and nervous, poor man. Parties did n’t 
come easy to him. 

“It was the only pair they had in the 
shop,” said Mrs. Claus. “What else 
could I do?” 

Then she hobbled to the door on her 


THE DAY OF THE PARTY 


poor pinched feet, and looked down 
Pudding Lane. 

“Mercy on us, here they come!” she 
cried, lining up the family in a nice 
straight row. 


51 


XII 

THE PARTY 


Sure enough, down Pudding Lane 
they came, in their best bibs and tuckers: 
old Mother Hubbard, Mr. and Mrs. 
Spratt, Miss Muffet and her mother. 
Tommy Tucker’s parents, the piper and 
his wife. Dr. Foster, old Toby Sizer, and 
all the rest. It was, indeed, a most 
imposing procession. 

Mrs. Claus shook hands with every- 
body, hoped they were well, and offered 
them chairs. They sat in a circle, while 
Mrs. Claus and Mr. Claus and Santa 
hurried to pass around food. For, of 
course, the food was the main thing. 

There were great rolls of freshly 
browned sausage. There were plates of 
S2 



They sat in a circle, while Mrs. Claus and Mr. Claus and Santa hurried to pass around food 

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THE PARTY 


steaming onions. There was a bite of 
cheese for everybody. There were fruits, 
and plenty of pastries from the shop. 
Miss MulFet had a special bowl of curds 
and whey, but her mother, bless you, 
had three helpings of sausage. It had 
always been said that she thought her 
daughter’s diet a bit silly. Mother 
Hubbard was seen to slip a bit of meat 
into her pocket. The old woman al- 
ways did that at parties. And finally, 
when all the company had eaten until 
they could not hold another crumb, 
there was conversation. 

“I notice you limp some, Mrs. Claus. 
Have you a crick in your knee?” asked 
Mrs. Horner politely. 

“No,” confessed Mrs. Claus with a 
slight moan, “I have no crick in my 
knee, neighbor. But my shoes,” — she 
S3 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

was ashamed to admit it but she went 
on bravely, — “my shoes are too tight.” 

“Why, Mrs. Claus,” said Mrs. Horner, 
reprovingly, “you ought not to wear a 
tight shoe. Better throw the pair away 
than ruin good feet.” 

Old Toby Sizer, the miser, grunted 
at such extravagance; and Mrs. Spratt, 
who was a very thrifty woman, spoke 
up. 

“Oh, I would never throw them 
away, Mrs. Claus,” she said. “Why 
don’t you save them until your little 
girl grows up? They would do nicely 
for her when she is a young woman.” 

This was considered a happy idea by 
all present, and so Mrs. Claus excused 
herself and went into the bedroom. 
When she returned to the company, it 
was in old house-slippers. It was true 
54 


THE PARTY 


that they did not look any too hand- 
some worn with that elegant green 
muslin dress. But the good lady was 
comfortable, at any rate. 

Just as she joined the party again, 
a messenger appeared at the door. 

“Old King Cole is calling for his fid- 
dlers three,” he said. “Are they here, 
baker?” 

Three skinny little men, with fiddles 
under their arms, sprang forward, wiping 
the last crumbs from their sharp chins. 

“Yes, we are,” spoke up the first 
fiddler. “We’ll follow immediately, 
messenger.” 

Then, when the messenger had gone, 
the first fiddler spoke again, this time in 
a grumbling tone. 

“Never go anywhere that that man 
does n’t send for us,” he said. 

55 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

Mrs. Claus murmured in a consoling 
manner, and the piper’s wife spoke up. 

“But he’s a merry old soul, fiddler.” 

“Oh, yes,” replied the first fiddler, 
sighing. “But, if he only were not 
quite so merry, ’t would not be such a 
dog’s life for us. Well, good day, all.” 

The first fiddler sprang out of the 
door, and the other fiddlers sprang out 
after him. The fiddlers three always 
jumped and leaped everywhere. People 
said it was because they were so used to 
jumping for the King. 

Little Santa was more sorry than 
anybody else that they had gone, for he 
did love a jolly jig such as they played. 
But his mother had other plans for him 
anyway, it seemed. 

“It is time for the cow, Santa,” she 
reminded him. 

S6 


XIII 

SANTA HAS A WONDERFUL ADVENTURE 

Santa did not like to leave the party, 
but, of course, he could not neglect the 
poor cow, either. So out he went, re- 
solved to hurry and get her back before 
the company should leave. The pasture 
was at the other end of Pudding Lane, 
next to Mistress Mary’s garden; and 
Santa hurried there as fast as his legs 
would carry him. 

All at once, he heard a faint noise, 
like the whistle of a far-away redbird. 
He looked high above him into all the 
trees, and he looked low into the bushes, 
but he saw nothing but green leaves 
everywhere, no sign of any bird. 

The whistling came louder and louder, 
57 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

and then, as Santa got closer to the 
pasture, he saw Mistress Mary hurrying 
out of her garden. She ran up Rasp- 
berry Road, and when Santa looked to 
see why she was running so fast, he saw 
all the village children running, too. 
And in front of them was a dancing 
man in brown, piping the most won- 
derful tune that was ever piped in the 
world. 

It was the Pied Piper of Hamelin! — 
the wicked man who piped children 
into a pit and left them there to die! 

Little Santa was stiff with horror as 
he saw the dancing, piping man and 
remembered his rascally deeds. He was 
so frightened that he just stood still for 
a moment, and did n’t know what to do. 

Then, as the music went on, he sud- 
denly wanted to follow it, too. But he 

58 


SANTA’S WONDERFUL ADVENTURE 

remembered his mother’s remedy, and 
quickly tearing some of the white cotton 
trimming from his red suit, he stuffed 
it in his ears. 

But he kept thinking: “I must save 
the children of Pudding Lane from the 
Pied Piper.” 

So he ran, as hard as his fat legs 
would go, to catch up with the proces- 
sion of children that was trooping away 
on Raspberry Road. Mistress Mary was 
at the tail end of the procession. She 
had been so contrary that she would 
not follow at first. Santa begged her 
to come back home. 

“You ’ll be shut up in a big black 
pit. Mistress Mary,” he told her. 

But, as usual, she would listen to no 
one. 

Santa then ran a little harder, and 
S9 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

caught up with the rest of the children, 
Tommy Tucker, Little Boy Blue, John- 
ny Stout, Bo-Peep, Jack Horner, Bob 
Snooks, Jack and Jill, and all the chil- 
dren of the Old Woman Who Lived in 
a Shoe. 

“Come home,” he begged them, “or 
the Pied Piper will take you to a big 
black cave, as he did the children of 
Hamelin.” 

But the children would not listen, 
but kept dancing along behind the 
piper, never knowing the horrible fate 
that was in store for them. 

“Come baek to Pudding Lane,” en- 
treated Santa again. “You will all be 
shut up in the pit and never see your 
mothers any more.” 

But the children would not heed him, 
and kept following the dancing man in 
6o 



The children would not listen, hut kept dancing along behind the piper 


Page 6o 



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SANTA’S WONDERFUL ADVENTURE 

brown, who piped such a wonderful 
tune. 

Santa was desperate. What could he 
do? The children would not listen to 
his warnings. They would soon be in 
the Pied Piper’s big black pit, and all 
the mothers in Pudding Lane would 
cry their eyes out. 

Santa wrung his fat hands in despair. 


6i 


XIV 

SANTA HAS ANOTHER MARVELOUS IDEA 

And just then he had an idea. He 
shouted to the children again. 

“Come home to Pudding Lane, and 
I will make every one of you a toy for 
next Holy Day!” 

The children turned their backs like 
a flash on the dancing piper. 

“You really will, Santa?” asked Bo- 
Peep? 

“I will,” promised Santa rashly. 

“Me too, Santa?” asked Tommy 
Tucker. 

“Everybody,” promised Santa again. 
“Just come home now.” 

“Hurrah for Santa Claus!” shouted 
Jack Horner. 


62 


SANTA’S MARVELOUS IDEA 

And in a moment they were all 
trooping back home, while the Pied 
Piper danced alone on Raspberry Road, 
never dreaming that they had forsaken 
him. 

When the children all marched into 
Mrs. Claus’s grown-up party, everybody 
was most surprised, and Mrs. Claus was 
really very much annoyed. 

“Why in the world did you bring all 
the children of the town to my grown- 
up party, Santa?” she questioned him. 
“And where, pray, is the cow?” 

But when all the parents had been 
told of what had happened that after- 
noon, they praised little Santa to the 
skies. They kissed him and blessed 
him and called him a good boy, until he 
thought he should die of embarrassment. 
And Mrs. Claus declared that, as a re- 
63 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

ward, he should go to market with her 
to buy a fat pig the very next time she 
went. 

At last, all the parents went home 
with their children held close to their 
sides, and the Claus family went to bed, 
tired and content. Just before he fell 
asleep, little Santa wondered how in the 
world he could ever make enough toys 
to go around among all the children 
of Pudding Lane. But, of course, a 
promise is a promise, and he had to 
do it somehow. 

So that was really the way the young 
Santa got started on his annual custom 
of making Holy- Day gifts for all the 
children he knew. 

And how he loved to do it! He 
worked hours every day, and learned to 
make the most wonderful dolls, wooden 


SANTA’S MARVELOUS IDEA 

animals, even rocking-horses whose tails 
were not stuck ’way over on one side. 

That next Holy Day was the best 
Holy Day that Old King Cole’s people 
ever had. And ever after that, Santa 
made toys for the Holy Day, and he 
became the most beloved person in the 
kingdom even though he was but a little 
boy, the son of a poor baker. 


6S 


XV 

A GREAT PROBLEM IN THE CLAUS FAMILY 

When Santa was almost a man, and 
had been making toys for years and 
years and years, the family gathered 
around the stove one day, to decide 
about Santa’s future. 

“He will be a baker and help me in 
the store,” said Father Claus, who was 
longing for a good rest, anyway. 

“He will be a carpenter,” said Mother 
Claus. “He’s too handy with his tools 
to be a baker, Mr. Claus.” 

“He will be a toy-maker,” said the 
children. 

At that Santa’s face grew bright. 

“Yes, I’d like to be a toy-maker,” 
he said. “ Matthew, Mark, Luke, and 
John can help you in the bakeshop, 
66 


A GREAT PROBLEM 

father. Only, — ” the boy stopped a 
moment, — “only, I shouldn’t want to 
sell toys, you know.” 

“You shouldn’t want to sell toys!” 
repeated Mrs. Claus. “Why, Santa 
Claus, whatever do you mean? Of 
course, you want to sell toys. No such 
toys were ever seen in the kingdom, and 
you will take in silver and gold by the 
bagful if you make them as a trade.” 

But young Santa was not pleased. 

“I couldn’t sell them, after giving 
them away all these years,” he said. 

At that Mrs. Claus lost her patience. 

“And who, pray, is to pay for your 
lodging the rest of your life? Your 
poor father, who has worked so hard? 
Your younger brothers ? Shame, Santa ! ” 

Poor young Santa Claus was very 
sorrowful. 


67 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

“No, mother, no one is to pay for 
my lodging. But I must make toys to 
give away, I really must. I could never 
make them to sell.” 

The matter was left undecided, and 
everybody was very much worried. For 
here was Santa almost grown up, and 
there seemed to be no work for him to 
do. Santa himself was especially down- 
cast, for he could not see, for the life of 
him, how he could ever make toys to 
give away and yet earn his lodging at 
the same time. And yet he felt inside 
himself that it would really be wrong 
for him to take money for his wonder- 
ful toys. And so it was a perplexing 
problem. 

Then one day, without any warning. 
Mother Goose swished down into their 
midst, with a great flourish of skirts, 
68 


A GREAT PROBLEM 

straight from the clouds on her trusty 
gander. 

There was great rejoicing, for the 
lively old lady was much loved by her 
family, and her visits were far too few. 
She gave them all a hug, and when she 
got to Santa, she gave him an extra 
squeeze or so, for of all the children he 
was her favorite. 

“My goodness, Santa,” she laughed. 
“I can’t reach round you, you’re so 
fat!” 

Sure enough, her arms went only half- 
way round. For the fat little boy of 
years ago had become a big, round- 
bellied fellow, with broad shoulders and 
wide girth, the jolliest-looking young 
chap you ever saw. 

Then Mother Goose, whose eyes were 
as sharp as needles, noticed that there 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

was a touch of sadness about the young 
man’s face. 

“Come, now, what’s the matter?” 
she asked. 

Santa did not answer; and as Mother 
Goose looked around the family, she 
saw that they all were distressed about 
something. 

“Come, tell me immediately,” she 
commanded. 

So they told her what was troubling 
them. And after they had finished, 
Mother Goose sat silently thinking, 
thinking, thinking, for seven minutes. 
What could be done about her dear 
Santa and his strange desire to make toys 
and give them away to children the rest 
of his life? 

At the end of the seven minutes, she 
looked up, and the whole family drew a 
70 


A GREAT PROBLEM 

breath of relief; for whenever Mother 
Goose put her mind on a difficulty, she 
always solved it. 

“I have it,” she announced. “Santa 
shall make toys for the children’s Holy 
Day the rest of his life, and I myself will 
get Old King Cole to set him up in the 
business. Old King Cole has money- 
bags full of gold. It ’s time he did 
something handsome with it.” 

With that. Mother Goose got up from 
her chair, hopped on the gander, and in 
a moment was out of sight, almost be- 
fore the family could catch their breath. 

She had gone to see Old King Cole. 


71 


XVI 

OLD KING COLE GIVES HIS ANSWER 


The family waited and waited for 
Mother Goose to return, fearful that she 
might fail in her errand, hopeful that she 
might succeed. They trembled as they 
waited; they hardly dared move; nobody 
spoke. Santa himself felt that he should 
die if Mother Goose came back without 
the King’s promise. 

It seemed as if they had waited for- 
ever, when a flash of petticoats was seen 
through the window, and in three sec- 
onds Mother Goose was with them again. 
Her face was triumphant. 

“The King says he will!” she cried. 
“It seems, Mr. Claus, that the King 
feels very much indebted to you for 
72 


OLD KING COLE GIVES HIS ANSWER 

teaching the Queen to make tarts. She 
had always been such a restless woman. 
Well, well, Santa, there you are. 
What do you think of your old grand- 
mother?” 

The old lady laughed in delight at 
the good work she had done. Then she 
remembered something. 

“Oh, I forgot to say that there is one 
condition. The King says every child 
must be asleep on the night before Holy 
Day, or else, Santa, you cannot make 
their toys forever. But I guess they ’ll 
go to sleep, all right, if they want our 
Santa to make toys for them!” 

The old lady laughed again, and then 
remembered something else. 

“Oh, yes, here’s the rest of it. You 
are to live, Santa Claus, in the great 
North Country, where the King has a 
73 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

big house and workshop, reindeer and 
sleighs galore.” 

At this, Santa’s eyes nearly popped 
out of his head, and the rest of the 
family just gasped. Mrs. Claus found 
her tongue first, as usual. 

“In the North Country!” she ex- 
claimed. “Why, Mother Goose, how- 
ever will he get there?” 

“Oh, he ’ll get there, all right,” replied 
Mother Goose. “Old King Cole will 
see to that.” 

Such excitement as there was in Pud- 
ding Lane when it was learned that 
young Santa Claus was to be set up in 
the toy-making business by the King I 
How everybody gaped when it was told 
that he was to go far away to the North 
Country, to live in a big, big house, and 
ride behind reindeer galore. 

74 


OLD KING COLE GIVES HIS ANSWER 

The news flew from house to house 
like wildfire, until finally everyone but 
the Town Crier knew all about it. 
The Town Crier was so busy calling 
out the price of butter that he did n’t 
hear the story until his wife told him 
that evening. Then he hurried forth to 
ring the bell and cry the news. No- 
body stopped him, for the Town Crier 
was getting a bit old and slow, and 
they were quite used to his calling out 
news that really was n’t news at all. 

Everybody who lived in Pudding 
Lane came to see the Clauses, to ask 
questions, offer assistance, bring pres- 
ents. Everybody loved Santa, you see; 
and besides, the Clauses were Somebody, 
now that the King had taken them up. 

It was all very pleasant and exciting, 
and everybody said that Santa was 
75 


a 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

very fortunate young man, and that Old 
King Cole was a merry old soul, was he. 

Everybody was glad, it seemed, but 
the piper’s wife, and she was jealous. 
For Tom, the piper’s son, who ran 
away after he stole a pig, was the only 
person in Pudding Lane who had ever 
traveled any, and the piper’s wife had 
taken on a good many airs about it for 
a long time. Now that Santa was going 
so far away, for such a noble career, she 
was very jealous. She found it hard 
to be even polite to the lucky Claus 
family. 


76 


XVII 

SANTA GOES A-COURTING 
For days the Claus family worked 
hard to get Santa ready for his long 
journey to the North Country, where 
he was to live the rest of his life. Mrs. 
Claus made twelve red suits, each one 
a bit larger than the former one; for it 
was supposed that Santa would get just 
a little stouter each year. Mr. Claus 
baked many plum puddings and fruit 
cakes. The butcher brought over a 
ham. Mrs. Claus packed a boxful of 
flannels and goose oil and camphor, 
against the freezing cold of the North. 

And though they were all busy, they 
were just a little sad, too, to think of 
losing Santa. And Santa himself was 
depressed at the thought of going away 
77 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

so far. He knew he should be lonely, 
even in the midst of his beloved toy- 
making. 

One day he was thinking of this, as 
he watched Mother Claus pack flannels 
into a box. All at once his mother 
looked up, and as if she had been 
reading his mind, spoke. 

“Santa, it is not right for you to go 
to the North Country alone,” she said. 

“I shall be lonely,” answered the 
young Santa. 

“Then you must take a wife with 
you,” said his mother decisively. 

Young Santa stared. 

“A wife,” he said in amazement. 

“A wife,” repeated his mother. “Of 
course, you must have a wife. What- 
ever have we been thinking of not to 
get you a wife?” 


78 


SANTA GOES A-COURTING 

Being a woman of action, Mrs. Claus 
left her packing, went into the bake- 
shop, and told Mr. Claus of her de- 
cision. 

Mr. Claus agreed that Santa must 
have a wife. And so it was decided, 
though young Santa had not the faintest 
notion how to get a wife. 

“How do you get a wife?” he asked 
his father. It was really a very terri- 
fying thought. 

“You go out and court her,” replied 
his father. “You take her sweets and 
posies. You make yourself agreeable 
to her and her family. You then get 
on your knees and say, ‘Curly-locks, 
Curly-locks, will you be mine?’ And 
if she ’s anything of a woman, she says 
she will. And that ’s all there is to 
it.” 


79 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

“ But if her hair is n’t curly ? ” objected 
Santa. 

“All the better: she will be immensely 
flattered,” answered Mr. Claus. 

It sounded easy enough. But the 
next question was: who should the wife 
be? 

“Jill is a nice girl,” suggested Mr. 
Claus. 

“Too clumsy,” said Mother Claus. 
“Always falling and sprawling around.” 

“Would Bo-Peep do?” asked Father 
Claus. 

“Bo-Peep might do,” answered his 
wife. “And yet she’s always off" some- 
where hunting sheep. No, I hardly 
think she ’d make a good practical 
wife.” 

Then Mrs. Claus herself thought of 
Bessie, the candlestick-maker’s niece, 
8o 


SANTA GOES A-COURTING 

who had just come to Pudding Lane. 
And Santa knew immediately that she 
was the very one. 

Bessie was a lovely girl, with hair like 
streaming sun, and the most gleeful 
laugh in the whole world; and Santa 
had been admiring her as quite the 
nicest girl he knew. He was sure that 
she would make an excellent wife, and 
that, with her in the North Country, he 
would never be lonely. 

So that evening, he went a-courting. 
He took posies and sweets, he made 
himself very agreeable, and he said: 
“ Curly-locks, Curly-locks, will you be 
mine ? ” 

He did not get on his knees, being a 
bit stout for that, but he made a deep 
bow, for his mother said that would do 
very well for a fat fellow. 

8i 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

Bessie said she would be happy to be- 
come Mrs. Santa Claus. Santa rushed 
home to tell the glorious news. 

“Bless us all!” said Mrs. Claus. 
“Great snakes!” said Mr. Claus. 

Then they all went to bed. 


82 


XVIII 


THE WEDDING AND THE WEDDING 
JOURNEY 

The wedding was held in the bake- 
shop, at noon on the following Monday. 
Pudding Lane had never seen such a 
grand occasion. 

Everybody was there, even the King 
and Queen. The fiddlers three played 
the music. Mistress Mary supplied the 
flowers from her garden. There was a 
great feast of tarts, which the Queen of 
Hearts made with her own royal hands. 
Everybody had on new clothes. Santa’s 
sister, now a big girl, wore the kid slip- 
pers that had pinched her mother’s feet 
at that other party so long ago. 

Only Mrs. Solomon Grundy Wtts not 
83 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

in holiday mood. She, poor woman, 
kept referring to her own unfortunate 
marriage. But then everybody was 
used to Mrs. Grundy, so nobody really 
listened to her as she mumbled: “Mar- 
ried on Wednesday, ill on Thursday,” 
and so on. 

And after all the celebration and 
feasting, the Happy Couple, as the 
Town Crier called them, rode off in a 
golden chariot, lent by the King. 
Mother Claus cried a few tears; Father 
Claus sniffled a bit; the candlestick- 
maker went back to his bench, croaking 
and shaking his head. 

But, in the golden chariot, Mr. and 
Mrs. Santa Claus were as happy as birds. 

They rode along Raspberry Road, 
turned at Pinafore Pike, went through 
Hamelin and Banbury Cross, and fi- 
84 


THE WEDDING JOURNEY 

nally they came to the edge of the North 
Country, where it was beginning to be 
cold. Into the North Woods went the 
golden chariot, and every hour it grew 
colder and colder. 

At last they came to open country, 
where deep, thick snow lay on the 
ground. There they were met by a 
sleigh and eight reindeer, whose bells 
jingled a noisy, sweet welcome to them. 
Into the sleigh they jumped, and then 
they were ofF, slipping across the snow 
like a flash of light, until they came to 
the great house where they were to live. 

What a wonderful house it was — a 
great, wide, low building, furnished with 
log furniture, and bear skins, and with a 
fire blazing in every room. Mrs. Santa 
Claus cried aloud when she saw it, and 
Santa himself stamped around saying, 

85 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

“Ho, ho, ho!” and rubbing his hands 
with pleasure. 

It was surely the best place in the 
world to live, they thought. But the 
next day they buckled right down to 
business, for, of course, there were 
heaps and heaps of toys to be made, and 
Santa was most anxious to get everything 
done in good time. 


86 


XIX 

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 

All year long Mr. and Mrs. Santa 
Claus worked to make toys. 

Santa cut down straight pines and 
spruce trees. He carved dolls and horses 
and rabbits out of the wood, and Mrs. 
Claus painted them until her arms ached. 
He made dolls of sawdust and linen, and 
Mrs. Claus dressed them in the latest doll 
styles, in blue and pink silk, with lace on 
the edge of their bonnets. Santa made a 
roomful of rocking-horses — it seemed 
tliat every little boy in the world wanted 
a rocking-horse. And Mrs. Santa made 
candy until she said she thought she ’d 
turn into candy. Whereupon Santa told 
her she was sweet enough for that, any- 
way I 


87 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

And then, on Christmas Eve, he 
started out, bundled to the chin in fur 
robes. The sleigh was running over 
with toys. He carried his pockets full, 
too, and under his arm was a bundle of 
dolls that just would not squeeze in any 
place else. 

“And will you hurry back, Santa 
Claus?” asked his wife anxiously, just 
before he started. 

“If all the children are abed and 
asleep as they should be, I ’ll be back by 
the crack of dawn,” he promised. 

“And if some little boy or girl is 
awake?” questioned Mrs. Claus fearfully. 

“Well” — Santa sighed deeply at the 
thought of such a calamity. “Well, I 
should simply have to bring all the toys 
home, and we could never try the busi- 
ness again. For Old King Cole explic- 
88 


THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 


itly said that every child must be sound 
asleep on the eve before Holy Day, or 
we ’d have to go back to Pudding Lane 
and be bakers the rest of our lives.” 

Then he was olF, with a snap and a 
flourish, and Mrs. Claus went back into 
the house, to sit by the fire and wait. 

The clock ticked, ticked, ticked. 
The snow outside fell softly, softly, softly. 
The fire burned lower, lower, lower. 
And Mrs. Claus’s heart almost stood 
still, so fearful was she that some boy or 
girl would be awake and spoil Santa’s 
visit. 

Supposing, she thought to herself, sup- 
posing little Polly Flinders had sat up 
to warm her toes in the cinders, as she 
was so fond of doing? Oh, dear! Poor 
Mrs. Claus almost wept at the very 
thought. 


89 


THE BOY IN PUDDING LANE 

Or supposing that Greedy Nan in- 
sisted on staying up, as she always, al- 
ways did when Sleepy-head suggested 
bed? 

Or supposing some little boy hid be- 
hind a sofa and peeped! 

Mrs. Santa could hardly bear these 
thoughts. She got up and paced the 
floor in her anxiety. And when she did 
that, even Santa’s cat, who had been 
snoozing gently by the wood-box, be- 
came restless. He followed Mrs. Claus 
up and down the room as she walked 
back and forth. He wondered where 
his master was, and what was the matter 
with Mrs. Claus. He had a worried 
frown between his green eyes, and his 
whiskers drooped dolefully. 

It was almost the crack of dawn. 
Mrs. Claus strained her ears for the far- 
90 


THE FIRST CHRISTMAS 

away sound of sleigh-bells, and peered 
out of the window for the first sight of 
a sleigh. But she heard no sound, and 
saw nothing in the distance. Oh, she 
was so afraid they would have to give 
up the toy-making business and go back 
to Pudding Lane! 


91 


XX 

SANTA COMES HOME 

But just at that moment dawn 
cracked. 

A dim light shone in the east. The 
snowbirds began to chirp. The stars 
faded softly out. 

And then, in a rush of snow and 
with a clamor of bells, came Santa, driv- 
ing the reindeer with one hand, and 
waving to Mrs. Glaus with the other; 
laughing aloud, “Ho, ho, ho!” In a 
second he was in the house, stamping 
and chuckling, puffing like a great 
steam-engine. 

“It’s all right, Mrs. Santa, it’s all 
right!” he shouted. “Every child was 
sound asleep, and we can go on forever 
now.” 


92 



Santa, driving the reindeer with one hand, and waving to Mrs. Claus with the other 

Page gz 



SANTA COMES HOME 

At this wonderful news, Mrs. Santa 
cried a bit, then set to work getting 
Santa’s breakfast. 

The cat, hearing that all was well 
again, grinned broadly and climbed up 
in Santa’s lap. Santa sat by the fire, 
stroking him and chuckling aloud. 

And so it is that Santa Claus has 
come every year since that first Christ- 
mas, and will keep on coming — forever. 

THE END 


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